Morgana
by boshrocks
Summary: Morgana Yvain is the new Sarmatian knight with a secret of her own, and she has a deep impact on one knight in particular. Will Love get in the way of their Duty? LancelotOC. not like usual OC stories
1. The New Recruit

Morgana looked up at Hadrian's Wall. It loomed over her, dark and imposing. Fey, her large black Spanish stallion skittered.

"Easy, my love. Its alright." Morgana said soothingly, stroking his neck.

Red was her colour. Her hair was a deep rich red, and fell in long strait locks down her back curling gently at the bottom. Her eyes were almost amber in shade and noted everything as she observed the guards on the wall. She had very well defined features; high cheekbones and a determined chin…aristocratic noble beauty. Her naturally red lips smiled and betrayed no hint or echo of fear. Her figure was curvy but quite muscular and the line of her shaped eyebrows indicated that she was not a woman to be trifled with.

She wore a dark chainmail shirt with loose sleeves stopping at the elbow, red leather jerkin over the top, and a long deep red skirt. A beautiful brown and gold bow and red leather quiver bristling with red feathered arrows was strung across her back. A long steel sword with a red two handed handle and gold lion head at the top and sheathed in red leather hung from a red leather belt. On her forearms she wore brown leather guards. A tarnished silver ring holding a large ruby stood on her left middle finger but this was the only finery she wore. A small sack was tied to the saddle behind her.

"What's your business here?" a cold voice said from behind her.

Slowly she turned Fey round. She came face to face with seven blood soaked Sarmatian knights. "You are expecting me, Arthur. I am Morgana Yvain."

"This is the famous Morgana? Daughter of a Sarmatian knight and a woadish woman. The last of the Order of the Lion." Lancelot said, his voice dripping with disdain.

Morgana inclined her head to them and then took off her right wrist guard, revealing a brand of a lion on her arm. "Sent by Rome to fight with Artorius and his knights." She replaced the guard and pressed Fey closer to the knights, examining their faces, lingering on Lancelot. "And these are the great Sarmatian knights Rome raves about? I don't see anything exceptional about you yet."

"Scorn us all you like, if you wish for a duel we will oblige and show you how well we fight. In fact it is tradition to weigh up new members. Within the walls you will fight us." Arthur said.

Again she inclined her head this time with a small smile. "Lead the way."

Proudly they rode through the gates. Guinevere came out to welcome them. She stared at Morgana. Morgana dismounted and hugged Guinevere.

"Gwen, I never thought I'd see you here."

"Nor I you here."

"You know each other?" Lancelot asked as he and the other knights dismounted.

"We grew up but a village away. She taught me how to fight. Believe me when I say you do not wish to face her in combat." Guinevere smiled.

"Well one of us must. Who shall test her?" Arthur looked around his knights.

"Let me." Lancelot said. "We shall soon see how well she fights."

Morgana continued to smile. Lancelot drew one of his swords and she drew hers almost delicately. Slowly they began to circle, never taking their eyes off each other. She was still smiling and it was starting to disconcert Lancelot.

He spun his sword a few times and she mirrored him. This really unsettled him so he lunged and she danced out of the way. He lunged again and she ducked. A third time he lunged and she stopped his sword halfway. He tried to push her back but she resisted and actually managed to push him backwards. She attacked with vigour and he could barely keep up. Eventually she managed to disarm him and pin him down holding his own sword to his throat. She knelt half on him and smirked.

"Why do I get the feeling you're holding back?" she asked quietly.

"Woman."

"I'm not holding back so why on earth should you?" she gave him his sword back and hauled him to his feet. "Don't go easy on me just because I'm a woman. Trust me, you'll just get killed."

"I believe you."

When they resumed the duel he didn't hold back and she smiled as she fought. She was incredibly quick and agile, more so than he was. She fought with the grace and ease of dancing; moving from one position to the next effortlessly, shifting the pace of the duel to suit her and making him do all the work. She was very strong, however he proved to be stronger than her and this time it was her who was pinned.

"Where did you learn to fight so well?" Lancelot panted looking down on her, straddling her.

"I could ask you the same thing." She was also out of breath but not so much as him.

Her arms were pinned above her head by one of his hands and his sword nestled against her throat. Her own sword lay a few metres away. She looked up into his eyes and giggled.

"What's funny?"

"You are. You take it so seriously. You're just testing me. It's just a bit of fun." She pursed her lips a little.

Lancelot didn't know why but he dropped the sword and leant closer, wanting to taste those lips. She just lay there, smiling beautifully at him. Her hair was spread out around her head, some spread over their clasped hands. He let go of her hands and grasped the lock of hair tenderly, felt its softness, just like her perfect skin bearing its few scars from battle.

His loose hand then traced a forked scar peeking out of the top of her chain shirt. She tilted her head away from it, exposing more of it and closed her eyes, emitting a little pleasurable moan.

Without being able to stop himself he kissed her deeply and forcefully. Gawain remarked on the effect of this strange woman on their friend while a few of the others puffed in surprise. Guinevere however wasn't surprised in the slightest and even giggled at the reactions of the knights.

Morgana's hands now being free she rolled them over so she was straddling him, grabbed his fallen sword, all while maintaining the kiss with closed eyes, and held it to his throat. Only then did she break the kiss and open her eyes.

"Remember Lancelot, I'm not only a warrior. I'm a seductress." She smiled and got up. "Will that satisfy you Arthur or must I fight another?"

"No, no. That will suffice. You certainly have a unique fighting style. You're very good. We will be glad of you amongst our ranks."

She bowed graciously. Flipping the sword so she held the blade she offered the handle to Lancelot who took it and got up quickly, shooting a vindictive glare at Morgana. She sniggered as she bent to pick up her sword. Sheathing it she shared an amused look with the other knights. She wandered over to Fey and kissed his nose. She fondled his forehead lovingly and shot a look at Lancelot who pretended not to notice.

Guinevere moseyed up to her. "I see you've not forgotten any of the old tricks." She muttered, stroking Fey's neck.

"So many delicious wild men here, how can you choose one?"

"Oh no. Morgan, if you must steal a heart just stick to one man. Please. Arthur doesn't need dissent in his ranks, and as we both know there's nothing like a woman for coming between friends. Especially you. I don't think I know a better seductress."

"Thank you, darling. So, you know these knights better than I do, who would you recommend?"

Together the women looked over their shoulders at the knights all of whom stopped talking and looked puzzled and a little scared at the inspecting stares of the women.

"Pin your hopes on Lancelot. He needs someone. And there's already tension between you." Guinevere giggled a little as they turned back to Fey. "You really know how to make a good first impression, don't you?"

"I don't need to make an impression; I need to make an impact."

"If I know you, you'll certainly do that."


	2. Dinner

Jools led her to a room and watched her unpack her sack and put the objects away. She pulled out dresses, cloaks, a spare sword identical to hers, reams of arrows all identically tipped with the same shaped red feathers, a small bronze statue of Athena and another of Artemis, various headbands, a small gilded box, a thick red leather bound book, a carved wooden lion motif crossbow and a red leather quiver of bolts.

"That was a nasty trick you used with Lancelot."

"Was it?" she said offhand, taking off her bow and quiver and setting them on the bed.

"Yes."

"Then I shall have to make it up to him. Poor man, they seem to feel more than we give them credit for."

"He seems very taken with you already. He doesn't usually show interest in women, not since Guinevere came here."

"Dear Gwen, she has a knack for making men fall for her. But so do I." she stripped off her wrist guards.

"Dinner's in half an hour, since it's your first night it's going to be a formal one."

"Oh, so I get to dress up. Which would you say I wear?" she held up one dress in the Celtic style with a low neckline of brown velvet with gold thread embroidery and long sleeves, and a beautiful red woollen roman dress.

"The red one. What is your purpose tonight?"

She smiled and unbuckled her belt. "None, much. First I must gain Lancelot's forgiveness. At Arthur's famous round table, you must seat me next to him. Will you?" as she spoke she removed her jerkin and then the chainmail shirt, revealing the top half of the red skirt; a continuation of the dress with no sleeves just thick straps fastening it to her shoulders and an elegant neckline. It showed her smooth shoulders and beautiful arms.

Jools nodded and left the room as she turned and slid the dress from her. Lancelot stopped in the doorway and watched her. Her long red hair fell almost to her waist and she glanced over her shoulder and smiled sweetly on seeing Lancelot. All she wore now was a plain white woollen skirt that stopped at her knee. Her top was bare. She took a comb and swept her hair over to her front and started combing it gently. Across her back was a very long red scar, stretching almost the entire diagonal of her back.

"Where did you get that scar?" Lancelot asked gently.

"When the Order of the Lion was destroyed. The battle was fierce and we were outnumbered ten to one. I watched my friends dying around me. Eventually they got to me. They had me cornered. If my love hadn't thrown himself in front of me as a shield I would have been killed. It was his last act, he knew he was dying too. As I cradled him in my arms the bastards came and sliced me open." She picked up her longbow. "My bow was broken in two, so I took up his. I shot them all while I had strength left. This bow is his. After the enemy was dead I cradled Yvain and he died there in my arms. I took his name as mine; Morgana Yvain. It was the least I could do." She put the bow back on the bed.

"You were right to. I'm sure he appreciates it."

"Yvain is dead. He exists no longer. His soul vanished from his eyes the second he left me." her voice was hard, maybe to make it easier for herself.

Lancelot entered the room quietly. As he had done earlier he traced the long scar on her back. She trembled and gasped at his caress.

Then she seemed to pull herself together a little. "I'm sorry about earlier. When I fight, I fight to win, at all costs."

"I didn't mind it that much." Lancelot slipped a hand around her waist and pulled her close. "In fact, it was the most enjoyable defeat I've ever had."

She giggled a little. "Are you going to let me get dressed for dinner?"

"I'm not sure I want you dressed." He whispered.

"Don't make me defeat you again."

"You're welcome to defeat me whenever you like." he kissed her exposed neck and down to her shoulder.

"Stop it. I must change or we'll be late." She tried to push him off but he held tight.

"So we'll be late."

"Hm. Stop." She said weakly as he resumed caressing her shoulders. Slowly she walked them backwards towards the door. When he stood on the threshold she stepped forwards and turned around, holding her long hair over her breasts. She smiled cheekily. "See you at dinner." She said, smirking, before closing the door on him.

He stared at the closed door. "You tease." He sighed and walked off towards the hall. "Women!" he muttered.

"Not having much luck then?" Gawain said emerging from his doorway and falling into step with his friend.

"How could you tell?"

"She's certainly a character."

"That's putting it mildly." Lancelot grumbled. "She certainly knows how to get a reaction from a man without doing much."

"And she seems to like you."

"I want her Gawain, more than any other woman, more than Guinevere."

"Anything to get you off that one. At least before Arthur finds out. Well I wish you luck, my friend, it'll probably take a lot to conquer her. But if anyone can do it you can." Gawain clapped him on the shoulder and they both laughed.

The great hall was well lit and filled with knights. Morgana paused in the doorway and looked out at the cheery knights, wondering if she would be able to fit in with these old friends.

Lancelot turned and saw her. His mouth dropped open. She smirked sexily at him, exuding confidence. She looked stunning. The red woollen roman dress was stunning on her, with a plunging neckline and gold cord belt that almost met the large slit that ran up from the hem temptingly exposing one of her smooth legs. A gold lion amulet hung round her neck and her hair was elaborately styled and gold bracelets hung loosely at her wrists. As he looked at her she smiled shyly. Then everyone else seemed to notice her.

"What?" she said arrogantly.

Lancelot chuckled and hurried forwards to lead her in. He seated her beside him chivalrously. Arthur watched him carefully, with a small smile on his face. During the meal Arthur noticed Lancelot's hand on Morgana's leg and that he kept feeding her titbits from his plate. Subtly he pointed this out to Guinevere who giggled and told him to let them be.

At one point Morgana got up and knocked on the table. The boisterous knights grew silent. "I'd like to say a few words. A toast, to my fellow knights. May we have good luck in all we do, and may we never want for loyalty from our comrades. I know I'm an outsider and a female knight, which is a contradiction in itself, and it may take most of you a while to get used to my ways but I can assure you, sirs, that from me you will never want for bravery, loyalty, compassion and friendship. You've all made me very welcome here, and you have my thanks, and now I hope to fight by your sides for many years to come. Thank you. Long live Artorius, his knights and his beautiful bride. Oh, and long live Britain." She added as an afterthought, saluting them all and they all stood and laughingly cheered, matching her salute. They all put their golden goblets down and applauded.

Morgana smiled and sat down again.

"That was a good speech." Lancelot said, letting his hand just brush hers.

"Speeches and wise words always come easy to me. Did you know I was the leader of the Order of the Lion?"

"No. But having met you, it doesn't surprise me in the slightest." She giggled as he raised her hand and kissed it.

Guinevere, hearing the giggle, repressed a giggle of her own. It seemed like Morgana was taking her advice and seemed to be letting herself be won. It was an old trick; make the man feel like he's doing the courting when really the woman is.


	3. The Scout

After dinner Morgana paid a visit to Fey in the stable. She looked around the noble horses in their stalls.

"Which knight belongs to which horse I wonder?" she said quietly wandering over to a large black one in the stall next to Fey.

Gently she stroked his nose and neck. "You are a fine one, aren't you? I'd like to ride you someday."

"You may just get your wish." Lancelot said coming in. "He's my horse."

"Noble horse, noble man." She smiled. Lancelot stood behind her, toying with her hair gently.

She moved over to Fey's stall and hugged his elongated head tenderly. Lancelot watched her hungrily. "You show that horse more kindness than you do me." he said grumpily.

"To be fair, Lancelot, I met you only a few hours ago. Fey has been my loyal companion for many years. How could you compare?" she said lightly.

"Why do you do this to me? You tease me, and lead me on and then cut me off and leave me cold."

She turned to face him smiling warmly. "It's what I do. I am a wild beast that cannot be checked. You mean to tame me. I will never allow that." she challengingly flirted.

"I don't want to tame you, if anything I prefer the wild beast in you." Lancelot approached and she stayed where she was.

"I'm sure he'd agree." She giggled and a hand toyed with the lion amulet at her throat.

"Who?"

"Not yet." She whispered as he slid an arm around her waist and pulled her close to him. She drew in her breath and seemed to draw him in with it. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes, feeling him against her.

"What I want I take, and what I want is you." he whispered slowly and huskily.

"Stand down soldier, both of you." she said with a laugh in her voice, pushing him backwards a few paces.

He started to protest but was cut off by the sounds of the alarm bell ringing from the nearby Wall.

"Duty calls." Lancelot said dashing off.

"I'll be there in a minute." Morgana called. Once he was out of the stable she checked the coast was clear and vaulted over the gate into Fey's stall, ducked behind it, and a second later popped up and vaulted back over dressed in her battle outfit complete with crossbow and sword.

Lancelot looked at her bewildered when she joined the knights and Guinevere on the wall. Morgana registered his look but asked what was happening.

"Guard thought he saw a raiding party." Arthur said.

"Saxon?"

"Could be."

Morgana cocked her crossbow and stared into the blackness. A slight movement caught her eye and she aimed for that spot.

"See something?" Lancelot asked quietly.

"Morgan, look deeper." Guinevere whispered from next to her.

Morgana closed her eyes and the knights stared at her in shock. She tilted her head to the side as a crossbow bolt whistled past her ear, just missing her eye. Her eyes were still closed.

Tristan fired an arrow into the darkness but didn't hit anything.

Morgana then fired the crossbow into the darkness and there was a strangled cry and a thud. Only then did she open her eyes.

"Lucky shot." Tristan grumbled. Guinevere and Morgana repressed sniggers. Tristan glared at them.

Morgana reloaded her crossbow. "Tristan, why don't we go and check it out? I think it's just a scout but it couldn't hurt to check."

Arthur nodded his consent and Morgana and Tristan left to inspect the thicket.

"How did you manage to hit him when I couldn't?"

"Like you said Tristan, lucky shot." She said shiftily.

"I don't think so. You weren't even looking. I'm good, but I'm not that good."

"Just let it go. I knew where he was. Can't we just leave it at that?"

"No. Even if I knew where my enemy was, I wouldn't be able to shoot him in the dark with my eyes closed without being able to see him in the first place. How did you do it?"

Morgana paused. "Don't worry about how, just be thankful that I did." She knelt down beside the dead Saxon. "If this scout had made it back to his leaders we could have some serious trouble."

"We'll have serious trouble anyway."

"Oh they'll come, but at least they won't catch us with our skirts down."

"We don't wear skirts."

"Arthur does." Morgana laughed and despite himself Tristan joined her. She turned the dead man over and inspected his teeth and the girth of his belt.

"What are you doing?"

"Usually a scout is one of the best common soldiers in the army, so if you manage to catch him you can often judge the mood, health, standards and morale of the army you're facing."

"And what does this one tell you?"

"Notice how thin he is? He's underfed, and lost a lot of weight in a very short time. He's malnourished, which means there's famine for him at home. The army is always the best fed and if they go hungry their morale isn't the best. They become surly and are less likely to follow orders as obediently as they should. Mutiny will be on their minds. They may be coming but they'll be coming slowly, saving what food they can. It doesn't do to rush and use up your energy when you could conserve it and make it last longer."

"I doubt they'll follow your logic though."

"The leaders will."

"Yes, but they will also know that the longer it takes the more the morale will sink."

"How long do you think we have?"

Tristan looked around. "A week, two at most."

"We must tell Arthur."

"Come on then." Tristan turned and headed back to the wall.

Morgana stood and followed but then paused and turned back to the fallen scout. Making sure Tristan was out of sight she ran her hand through the air over the Saxon. "Flamma." She muttered. Flames consumed the body quickly. Smiling she turned and ran to catch up with Tristan.


	4. Battle Plans

"Oh he didn't." Guinevere exclaimed very late that night as she and Morgana sat on the bed in Morgana's room.

"That's not all, after the business with the scout was over Lancelot backed me into a corner and just started kissing me, completely out of the blue."

"The boy's moving fast."

"He's certainly very eager." The girls stifled their giggles.

"He probably doesn't want you to fall in love with a knight that's not him."

"Probably. I have a plan."

"You always do. Strategy?"

"Give it a few more days, let things really heat up between me and Lancelot, and then start flirting with Galahad or Gawain."

"That'll drive him mad. But what if he challenges you about it?"

"Then I claim that it's all in his head and that I was just talking to them."

"You have a seriously evil mind Morgana."

"I'm a woman. It's a game."

"Just make sure you know who's winning."

"I always win."

"Oh you'll win, right up until the last scene, when he will trip you up and win the real prize."

"Which is?"

"You, of course darling." Guinevere reached out and caressed Morgana's cheek gently.

"And if things go wrong, there's always my gift." Morgana wiggled the hand with the ruby ring on it.

"What will you do with it?"

"You'd be surprised how far magic can take you."

"In my opinion the only real magic is love."

"Yes, well. I'm not actually planning on falling in love with him."

"What you plan and what actually happens are, in my experience, two completely different things."

"That…is an issue, I'll admit."

"You are a piece of work darling."

"Everyone has to improvise sometimes. Some…more than others, it has to be said."

The girls both held the moment and then laughed loudly. Someone knocked on the door and Arthur came in.

"Girls please. It's very late."

"Sorry darling. You know what old friends are like after an age apart. We didn't mean any harm." Guinevere said simperingly, getting off the bed and approaching him.

"You never do." He told her affectionately. "So what are you girls doing?" he looked at Morgana.

"Battle plans." Morgana smiled confidently.

"I don't follow."

"I guess it's safe to trust you with it since Gwen will probably tell you all anyway. You see, Arthur, planning to win the heart of a man is a bit like planning a battle. It takes strategy and sneakiness."

"I see. Who is the enemy?"

"Not an enemy, no rival army, just an objective."

"Fine. Who is your objective?"

"I would have thought it was obvious, sire." She smirked and Guinevere suppressed a snigger.

"Fine, play your games, girls, but play them in the morning." Taking Guinevere's hand he led her out of the room.

Once they were gone Morgana giggled. Smiling she got up from her bed, picked up her oil lamp and crossed to the door. She glanced down the dark corridor for signs of life, moving the light hand around to make sure the coast was clear.

Quietly she slipped out of her room and down the corridor to Lancelot's room.

"What are you doing up?" an amused voice said from behind her.

In her shock she stopped and dropped her lamp. Turning she scrambled to pick it up before it set fire to the building and looking up she saw Galahad who held his lit oil lamp up to see who it was. "Sleepwalking?" she said, smiling feebly and noticing her lamp had gone out.

"Nice try. What are you really doing?"

Morgana straitened up and observed him critically for a moment, debating with herself how much to tell him. "Executing phase one of the plan."

"Which is?"

"Do you really expect me to tell you?"

He chuckled, took her lamp and relit it. "Not really. Go your way, I'm not stopping you. I just hope you know what you're doing." He handed her lamp back to her.

"Galahad this is me, I never know what I'm doing." She said perfectly strait-faced. Then she snorted. "I'm fooling with you; I always know what I'm doing."

"Figured that, but are you certain?"

"If there's one thing I know, it's how to insert myself into a man's head, heart and another prominent appendage slightly south of the sword belt."

"Well, bed him well, my lady."

"I'm not going to bed him, yet. I'm just going to string him along." She winked. "Come for a morning ride with me and I'll explain everything. I think I need you on my side. Oh, and if anyone asks; you didn't see me here tonight. Got it?"

"Of course."

Smiling she leant forwards and kissed him on the cheek and then darted off down the corridor again. He watched her go, looking very puzzled. He really couldn't make her out; the woman had so many levels. But he'd have time to work out this intriguing creature, and it was her first night there.


	5. Galahad's Logic

"So you see, I do need your cooperation." Morgana finished, having outlined her plan to Galahad.

"It's a good plan, whether you stick to it is another question."

"Trust me, I can blur the line between careful planning and on-the-spot improvising very well. After all…I do it all the time."

He chuckled and spurred on his horse to keep up with Fey. "I will help you, but I have one little observation."

"Go ahead."

"It seems like a really elaborate plan for something you refer to as a game. I am aware that you do this quite a lot, and you have a bit of a reputation as a heartbreaker, but do you always put so much effort into it?"

Morgana paused. She seemed to be pondering a new concept. "No. Not usually."

"I don't think you have to put this much effort into it. Not with Lancelot. He's very impulsive and he knows what he wants…and he really wants you."

"I know. It was pretty obvious." She laughed feebly.

"Why are you making such an effort?"

"I…don't know. I normally seduce the men quickly and bed them, the same way men have treated me in the past, and I was always in charge. I'm not really in charge with Lancelot. He's a stronger character than I usually choose, and I wasn't intending to choose him."

"Then why did you?"

"Something happened to me when I was fighting to him. It was something I hadn't felt since Yvain. I can't really explain it."

"I think I understand. Maybe, and don't chop my head off for this, but maybe this one isn't a game. Maybe you're not going to use this one and move on like you usually do."

"This is friendship talking."

"I don't doubt that. But I think you're tired of it. Nature might be telling you it's time to settle down."

"Settle down! Me? I'll let no man rule me."

"And I greatly pity the man who tries it. But such an elaborate plot for a brief fling doesn't feel right."

"How so, Galahad?"

"I'm not saying that he will rule you but perhaps you might linger on this one. After all, you're going to be here for quite some time and instead of discarding him like you have all the others why don't you keep him?"

"As a pet?"

"No, as a lover, if not a husband."

"Husband? If I had a husband I would not be free."

"Is freedom so very important?"

"I can tell you've not known me long. Freedom is everything."

"What about Yvain?"

"Yvain…was neither husband nor lover. I did not endeavour to win him and bed him as was my practice with men thereafter. I never loved any of the men I bedded, although they loved me, or thought they did. But I did love Yvain. More than this world." Morgana's voice broke a little and she looked like she was trying to bite back tears. She spurred Fey forwards to ride ahead of Galahad's.

Galahad watched her carefully, a flash of insight into the chestnut burr that was Morgana, hitting him with the ferocity of lightning. That was why she used men, and why she was making such an effort to win Lancelot; even if she did not know the reason herself. He would help her, he vowed. And he would start by talking to Lancelot.

Morgana regained her cheeriness and disposition by the time they rode back through the gates of the complex. Galahad watched her as she smiled around at the other knights and positively beamed down at Bors and Fenora as their new twins bawled away and the other children sniggered away.

Dismounting quickly she took the screaming baby away from Bors and the little girl immediately became quiet. Bors and Fenora looked on in shock as Morgana took the baby boy and he too stopped yelling. Smiling warmly she rocked the twins gently and began to sing a soft haunting lullaby. The twins, one in each arm, cuddled up against the soft material of her brown dress and the boy toyed with the lion amulet around her neck. The girl pawed at the fabric of Morgana's dress. Soothed, the twins were soon purring away like kittens and Morgana handed them back to their parents.

Galahad had seen the almost mournful look in Morgana's eyes as she looked at the twins, ruffled the hair of their other children, and tweaked the nose of one of the girls. Morgana's smile never wavered and there was no break in her voice or laugh, but Galahad wondered what the mournful look was about.

Galahad also noticed that one of her hands was subconsciously wandering towards the buckle on her sword belt. Once again he wondered what that was all about.

Maybe Guinevere knew…


End file.
